


Texting in the Time of Quarantine

by hillaryschu



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Quarantine, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24189556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hillaryschu/pseuds/hillaryschu
Summary: Brienne is stuck in quarantine and missing her best friend. Good thing he's taken to texting her constantly.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 100
Kudos: 325





	Texting in the Time of Quarantine

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of Brienne not being willing to set Jaime up with her friends popped into my head and it somehow turned into a quarantine fic. I don’t know. 
> 
> My husband helped me with the beginning. My buddy Mark helped me write one of the texts. [sdwolfpup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdwolfpup/pseuds/sdwolfpup) suggested a place you might pass-out drunk. [brynnmck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brynnmck/pseuds/brynnmck) helped beta it and suggest changes. I can't believe I had so much help with such a short fic but thanks to all.
> 
> Please don't judge the title. I literally can't think of a quarantine/covid title without thinking of Love in the Time of Cholera (which is not unique--I checked). And I just wanted to get this thing posted.
> 
> Anyway, I hope it's at least kind of funny. Thank you for reading.

The windows are open because it’s the first nice day they’ve had since being shut inside. But there’s a slight chill in the air so Brienne pulls an old, faded hoodie from the back of her closet and slips it over her head. Most of the sweatshirts she has in regular rotation are in a giant laundry pile in the corner of her bedroom. Lugging all of her dirty clothes down to the basement—riding in an elevator with no airflow and the possibility of running into another person, just seems too risky. So the pile grows.

She shuffles to the kitchen and makes another weird dinner. A rice bowl piled with veggies and more chorizo than absolutely necessary. What started as a stupid joke with her friends led to her buying more spicy, oily meat than any one woman needs to consume in a year. She’s eaten chorizo hash for breakfast. Chorizo quesadillas for lunch. Chorizo-stuffed chicken for dinner. If she never eats chorizo again in her life, it might be too soon.

She has barely left her apartment for over a month and it’s starting to get to her.

A global pandemic has swept the nation for the first time in a century—at least to this terrifying degree—and Brienne is holed up in her tiny, one bedroom apartment. Kings Landing went into official quarantine 37 (long) days ago. Much of the rest of the country had followed quickly on its heels, with local leaders fighting to protect their residents despite a befuddling lack of leadership from the Baelish administration. 

Brienne hasn’t seen or touched anyone since. It isn’t a huge deal—she’s a fairly solitary person. The biggest loss is not seeing her best friend, Jaime. She normally sees him several times a week. They meet up for lunch on weekdays and they go to the gym together. They visit museums and go to movies. They hang out at their apartments and go to the bar with friends. Jaime is clever and charming and annoying and ridiculous. Brienne also happens to be very obviously completely in love with him—but that’s mostly beside the point. Jaime pretends he doesn’t know, so she pretends it’s not real.

Since the shelter-in-place order was issued, Jaime has started texting her with a frequency that is both thrilling and irritating. 

**DAY 2**  
J: How long is this going to last?  
B: It’s only been two days, Jaime.  
J: But when can I go back to work?  
B: No one knows, Jaime.  
J: When do I get to see you again?  
B: I don’t know, Jaime.

 **DAY 3**  
J: How am I supposed to go to the gym?  
B: You’re not.  
J: How am I supposed to get a latte?  
B: You’re not.  
J: How am I supposed to get product for my hair?  
B: Jaime.  
J: I’m almost out!

 **DAY 8**  
J: Who’s that one guy in that one movie about the thing? The skinny, weird religious guy?  
B: Howland Reed?  
J: No, the other guy.  
B: Stannis Baratheon?  
J: Yeah, fuck that guy.

 **DAY 12**  
J: I miss you.  
J: Don’t you miss me?  
J: Why aren’t you answering my texts?  
J: I know you aren’t out, we’re all at home.  
J: You aren’t mad at me are you?  
J: Because of the pajamas?  
J: I was just kidding. They’re cute.  
J: Where ARE you?  
J: Okay, I’m going to go see if I have any food in the fridge.  
J: I don’t have any food in the fridge.  
J: How do I get groceries?  
J: Bri, come on! I need you—help meeeee!  
B: Gods, Jaime. I was on the phone with my dad for 5 minutes. 

**DAY 16**  
J: Should I get a cat?  
B: No.  
J: Why not? I have a lot of l love to give.  
B: You can’t keep a plant alive.  
J: But I thought of a really great name for a cat. And that was one fern. One time.  
B: It was a Philodendron.  
J: Oathkitten!!!  
B: 😐

 **DAY 21**  
J: How do you make sourdough?  
B: Jaime, no. Why do you want to make sourdough?  
J: It’s what people are doing.  
B: Yes, people who can bake. People who can cook. You can’t fry an egg.  
J: OK. FINE.  
J: How do you fry an egg?  
B: You can’t be serious.

 **DAY 26**  
J: I tried to FaceTime you.  
B: I know, sorry.  
J: Can I call you now?  
B: I hate video.  
J: You don’t want to look at my ugly mug. I get it.  
B: Ha, ha. Okay, Mr. Universe.  
J: Let me call you.  
B: I’m naked.  
J: Oh? Do tell.  
B: I’m not naked, I just don’t want to FaceTime.  
J: Brienne, I’ve seen you at your worst. I’ve seen you passed out drunk with your head in a dishwasher.  
B: That was YOU.  
J: I see your face all the time. I love your face. Let me call you.

 **DAY 31**  
J: I downloaded Animal Crossing.  
B: Congratulations.  
J: I don’t get it.  
B: It’s a game. Play the game.  
J: But it’s not like that. You can’t win. You just, like, plant stuff and hang out with animals.  
B: Like a farm?  
J: No, the animals are your neighbors.  
B: I don’t get it.  
J: Download it so you can come visit my village.

 **DAY 36**  
J: I’m bored.  
B: No kidding.  
J: Entertain me.  
B: And how exactly am I supposed to do that?  
J: What are you doing tonight? We could both watch the third Arthur Dayne movie at the same time and make fun of all of the historical inaccuracies.  
B: I can’t. I have a date to chat with Sansa. I think she’s lonely. It’s hard for her not being in a couple—just being quarantined alone.  
J: I’m alone. You’re alone.  
B: Sure but it’s different, obviously. I’m talking about dating. Sansa is someone who wants to find the love of her life. When this is over, I’d love to set her up. I don’t know many single men but I work with a few nice, attractive guys.  
J: You do? Who? Who do you think is attractive?

 **DAY 37**  
J: I’m drunk.  
B: Okay.  
J: I’m drunk and I have a question. I need to ask you something. It’s important.  
B: Okay.  
J: You said you don’t know many single men. But I’m single. Why wouldn’t you want to set me up with someone?  
B: Jaime…  
J: Tell me.  
B: You know why I can’t set you up with anyone.  
J: Because…Cersei?  
B: What? Why would you think that? Your past doesn’t define you. That isn’t who you are.  
J: My hand?  
B: Jaime! Of course not! Do you think I would even be friends with anyone who would be put-off by a disability?  
J: Why then? Wait, I’m calling you.  
B: Jaime, no...

He’s FaceTiming her. Great. Now she not only has to have this _excruciatingly_ embarrassing conversation, but she has to do it LIVE—where he can see her. She’s sure she must look a mess. The irony of reminding her preternaturally beautiful best friend that she is infatuated with him while looking her absolute worst, was not lost on Brienne. She’s got mussed-up hair from reading on the couch all evening and she’s wearing her old glasses and one of Jaime’s college track hoodies. When she sees him, she’s probably going to go all red and blotchy. Gods, hopefully she doesn’t cry at least.

“Hi.” 

“So, I don’t understand. Why can’t you set me up with anyone?” Jaime jumps right in.

“It would make me too uncomfortable.” 

“Because…?”

“I’d be jealous.”

“Of…?” She can’t believe this. He’s really going to make her say it? 

“You’re really going to make me say it?”

“I truly have no idea what you’re going to say!” 

“Come on, Jaime,” she can barely look at the phone. “You know I’ve been in love with you since, like, our third year of university. It’s fine. I get it. And I can deal with it, but I can’t go so far as to set you up with a friend. It’d be torture.”

He’s quiet. He doesn’t look or sound very drunk. In fact he looks stunned. How can he be stunned?

“I…you…that’s…” He can’t seem to pick a direction to go with his thoughts. “I did _not_ know that.”

“Sure, you did. Everyone knew—everyone _knows._ ”

She waits for the pity. For the kindness he’ll do her—telling her she’s great. Smart and reliable, honest and good. That she’ll find someone, some day, to love her, but that it’s not him. That he just sees her as a friend. All of these things that she already knows. That she already thought was understood between them. But he doesn’t say anything.

“Jaime?”

“I can’t. I can’t have this conversation right now. Not like this. I have to go.” He hangs up. 

Brienne starts to panic. It hadn’t occurred to her that this call would be anything other than an out loud utterance of shared knowledge. Is he…upset? Self-conscious? Shit. Is this going to fuck-up their friendship? She can’t lose him. What would she even do without Jaime in her life—by her side like he has been for the past seven years? Fuck. Seven years and he never knew? How? By the Gods.

She fights back tears and heads to the bathroom to splash water on her face. She texts Jaime “please call me when you can” and then kind of aimlessly paces around the apartment. She puts on a kettle of water for tea and forgets about it until it’s screaming.

Just as she’s pouring the water that didn’t evaporate over a bag of Earl Gray, there’s a rap at her door. It only takes her a second to move from startled to befuddled to almost certain that it must be Jaime. No one else would be paying a visit during a lockdown. She opens the door and steps back. She finds him standing on her welcome mat wearing a mask and holding the handle of a small rolling suitcase.

Jaime pushes his way into the room. He drops the suitcase, pulls the door closed and yanks off his mask. Brienne startles at his quick, deliberate movements and clear disregard for the shelter-in-place rules.

“Jaime! You can’t…”

“I haven’t seen a soul since we were told to stay home.”

“How’d you get here?”

“Walked. Look, we have a _lot_ to talk about but I’ve missed you desperately. We are clearly both total and complete idiots.” And then he’s inches from her. His left hand is on her cheek, his other arm pulling her close, and his mouth is on hers. It’s slow and soft to start and her eyes flutter closed even as her heart tries to beat out of her chest. She brings her hands up to his neck and leans in as he deepens the kiss. 

After a few minutes they break. She’s staring at him in utter shock, mouth open, eyebrows knit together—while he simply beams. Glows like a meteor hurtling directly toward her. 

“You brought a suitcase?”

“Seven years, Brienne. Seven years.” 

— 

Kings Landing went into official quarantine 46 days ago. Brienne has only seen and touched one person since. The laundry is piling up at an alarming rate but, on the plus side, she’s nearly out of chorizo. She still gets the occasional text from Jaime.

 **DAY 46**  
J: I miss you.  
B: I am just in the kitchen.  
J: Come back to bed.  
B: I need coffee.  
J: Ok…your loss…🍆✌️  
B: I told you—no sexually suggestive emojis!  
J: 👋🍑😈  
B: Gods dammit, Jaime. I’ll be right there.


End file.
